had been fished up out of the Elk--a man who had been roughly
handled."

"Were it my Uncle Bob?" cried Hannibal, lifting a swollen face to
his.

"Dear lad, I don't know," said the judge sympathetically. "Some
people on a raft had picked him up out of the river. He was
unconscious and no one knew him. He was apparently a stranger in
these parts."

"It were Uncle Bob! It were Uncle Bob--I know it were my Uncle
Bob! I must go find him!" and Hannibal slipped from the judge's
lap and ran for his rifle and bundle.

"Stop a bit!" cried the judge. "He was taken on past here, and
he was badly injured. Now, if it was your Uncle Bob, he'll come
back the moment he is able to travel. Meantime, you must remain
under my protection while we investigate this man Slosson."

But alas--that thoroughfare which is supposed to be paved
exclusively with good resolutions, had benefited greatly by
Slocum Price's labors in the past, and he was destined to toil
still in its up-keep. He borrowed the child's money and spent
it, and if any sense of shame smote his torpid conscience, he hid
it manfully. Not so Mr. Mahaffy; for while he profited by his
friend's act, he told that gentleman just what he thought of him
with insulting candor. On the eighth day there was sobriety for
the pair. Deep gloom visited Mr. Mahaffy, and the judge was a
prey to melancholy.